


If I Say I Love You

by the_bees_tales9229



Category: Big disclaimer, Devil May Cry
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Big Disclaimer - Freeform, Detective-ish Thriller, Drama, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff and Smut, Investigation, Librarians, Much Fanfic, NSFW, Out of Character, Romance, Slice of Life, Urban Fantasy, not mine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 15:43:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11016477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_bees_tales9229/pseuds/the_bees_tales9229
Summary: Valentine’s Day passes Vergil like any other day for him, except for the over-commercialized events, discounts and unusually high demonic activity that plague it. However, for that one acquaintance, he might try to make Valentine’s Day different and special...





	1. Love Blooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day would appear to be another humdrum day for Kathalina, until Vergil keeps on surprising her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should've been for Valentine's Day. Sigh...
> 
> Oh well, at least it's Vergil.
> 
> Originally all mine, not by co-author Greg.
> 
> Update 2018: I updated some of the details now that the last chapters I've long delayed are finally coming to fruition. I also plan on writing Dante's and Vergil's childhood and teenage years in this DMC AU. Thank you for all the faves! Please don't be shy in asking me or giving your critiques!

The pink and red balloons, heart-shaped neon signs and other decor that invaded the town seemingly within twenty-four hours both amazes and peeves Vergil. It is just before dawn and he had finished decapitating the tenth Prowler he and his twin had been hunting for a few days now. The new creep of Prowlers—nearly invisible creatures that feed off the warmth of any settlement and use it as energy to incubate their spawn—had become greedy and had decided to march down their mountain hideaway to take what little heat there already is on a wintery February. And knowing there’s a holiday in a coming week, he and Dante are going to have to pull an all-nighter for the next six nights.

Ah, Valentine’s Day.

It will be coming in a week, and just like all holidays, it is just another day for him. Unfortunately, holidays seem to correlate with a spike in supernatural activity, almost all the time. Halloween is, surprisingly, not the highest with this statistic; at least in the areas Vergil’s responsible in keeping an eye out. The only good thing that could come out of this occasion, besides the usual ‘nightly cleanup routines’ he and his twin generally do, is the fact that discounts and special item sales are stocked high and available, and Vergil mentally gives himself a note that he’ll be procuring himself a fine vintage wine later…

 _Perhaps I’ll buy myself a week’s worth of alcohol and hide in my safe haunts, never mind the demonic activities. Dante seems too proud of doing those kinds of dirty work, anyway._ He mused jokingly. He knows Dante may have found himself a date or two already, which means the office in Slum Avenue would be empty and Vergil can use some of the files for a fruitful research. Ah yes, his personal research, not to mention his university duties, peaceful pastimes and polite conversations with his favorite librarian…

Kathalina, the Ice Queen, The Oracle-Muse…

…the woman who, despite her quiet beauty, feels too conscientious of herself and her place in this world. Vergil shakes his head and wants nothing but to disprove such a delusion.

As the last Prowler’s corpse deteriorates into ashes, Vergil strolls back to his penthouse. Everything seems to be quiet, until he sees a figure at the corner of his eye—

A young man with brunet hair—one of Vergil’s students—appears to be sneaking out of his backyard’s door. Not too far from where he is, just behind the wooden fence, a young woman waits. Jumping the barrier, the young man hurriedly goes to his lover’s side and they embrace.

 Secret, young love affairs. Vergil smirks. After his class, he will pull him aside for a talk about making sure he and his lover are doing it safely, or else Vergil will lose one of his most enthusiastic students. There are demons, there are evils, yes, but there are also mistakes that could be avoided. With that thought, Vergil leaves the two young lovers for now. Valentine’s Day is coming, after all.

But as he gets ready for his morning shower, Vergil muses if he should approach Kathalina this afternoon. The poor woman is quite a nervous wreck whenever he’s around, yet she continues her best to gain back her cool composure and assist him, no matter how trivial.

_Yes, perhaps this afternoon..._

 

There is an unmistakable aura of elegance in his step as he strolls inside the large doorway of the library’s entrance and towards the desk. Vergil simply looks _regal_ in his lightweight navy pea coat, his pale hair brushed back, but not quite immaculate as it probably did this morning; the winter wind had done its best to ruffle his locks, though it did nothing more than to frame his long, chiseled face beautifully. Kathalina represses a wistful sigh and does her best to do her work, which really is _boring,_ no matter how much professionalism she musters.

With a book in one hand and his black briefcase on the other, she realizes that Vergil must be doing some personal research again. He has color-coordinated his briefcases according to what is necessary for the day, especially for his classes. Everything in Vergil’s world, as Kathalina has observed, _has_ to be organized. And for that trait alone, Kathalina finds herself restraining from obviously swooning.

He places the book gently on the surface of the desk, which is no small book. It does make her bewilder how Vergil is able to carry it nonchalantly all the way from university without feeling numb on his fingers. He greets her, his silky voice never ceases to grab at her heartstrings. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon.” She mimics with a smile and goes on to attend to the returned book, doing her damnedest to look like she is into her job than on the beautiful being just two feet away from her, barred by her desk. “Returning this too soon?”

“It, unfortunately, doesn’t have the information I need.” He sounds disappointed. “I’ll be looking into the Historic Archives further and the Theologies section as well. And I’ll be at the usual booth.”

“For your personal research?” She wasn’t being nosy; she respects and upholds privacy, but the tone of her voice couldn’t be brought back and, in her hindsight, she sounded too curious. Vergil even lifts an eyebrow and Kathalina sheepishly looks away. “No, I don’t mean to be a busybody. I’m...able to determine some of the patron’s work patterns. It does help me help them get what’s needed.” She sounded breathless and panicky, despite being poised. Under Vergil’s careful gaze, she can see how much she’s cracking. The lifted brow is still there, but Vergil nevertheless smiles at her. “I always knew you’re very astute, Kat. Don’t worry, I understand. I think I’m one of the library’s most notable patrons, but this _is_ one of the best haunts in town.”

Kathalina has to repress that wistful sigh again after labeling the book’s Return date and her signature in its log ticket attached inside the book. She then presents the log ticket to him for his signature. “Your compliments are always appreciated by the library, Mr. Sparda.”

He pulls out his own fountain pen from his pea coat and signs his looping signature. “Well, it won’t be quite the library it is without you, Ms. Lombardo.” And he is _literally_ telling a compliment of her skills; there is no romantic subtext to it. There _shouldn’t_ be...

She could tell, in the way he doesn’t look up from how he’s writing his elegant script of a signature.

“Thank you.” Kathalina’s tone was curt, as she receives the ticket and places it back into the book. With that, Vergil takes his leave; he does politely murmur a “goodbye” before taking his briefcase to his usual booth for his research. Kathalina’s eyes linger on his form until he has gone to the corner end of the library, where the long staircase is, and she soon releases a breath.

Vergil is intelligent, kind...and simply unattainable. They’re relationship is strictly an acquaintanceship. She could never dare herself to speak openly about her feelings, to test the waters, because being safe could save her from a disaster of having the only connection she has with him dissolve into nothingness.

Yes, it’s an exaggeration, but—

Kathalina has always pictured Vergil to be partnered with someone who is just as sleek and wise, equally beautiful, not unlike the tall blonde friend she was introduced before, when their university was welcoming Vergil as a new addition to the lecturing staff; Vergil had brought with him his twin brother, Dante—identically handsome, but more rugged and suave, a contrast to Vergil’s subtle and slicker appeal—and his twin’s co-worker, the tall blonde woman…hmm, Trish, was it? Kathalina could only vividly remember the tall woman’s beauty, and how, apparently, the blonde woman is in a relationship with another, not with either the twins. It was a mistake to assume that she was in a relationship with one of the men, but it did surprise Kathalina that neither Vergil nor Dante is partnered with such an illustrious beauty.

Nevertheless, despite Kathalina’s musings of imagining matchmaking, she does end up imagining herself being the one for Vergil. It is only a fantasy, nothing more.

They had long been too professional and polite with one another and she hoped they would gradually transition to a warm friendship soon. She had yearnings of the two of them being able to talk more freely and openly, hanging out in his place or in her place without a care in the world, sharing each other’s secrets and insecurities without judgment, just the assurance that they are honest and trust one another...

...and then they’ll slowly lean their faces closer, finding each other so comfortable and lovely, murmuring sweet things about their attraction for one another, and laugh softly, until they can reach one another’s lips to seal a kiss…

But she remains professionally, _politely_ distant and Vergil remains oblivious, preoccupied and far into his research, his long, angular nose buried over books or pointing at computers, his eyes more focused on the texts he reads, than on daily trivial and misguided things; while she, on the other hand, daydreams of him and of her finally taking the leap, but of course, Kathalina finds it foolish of her.

How could she catch the attention of such a wonderful being?

According to friends and colleagues, he behaves similarly at the university and outside, all tempered with the same respectable manner, impersonal and polite. Anyone who knew him feels like an intellectual equal; anyone who didn’t know him yet would feel in awe of his presence.

Eloquent, mysterious, intelligent…

And perhaps because of these traits, Kathalina throws all efforts to evoke a cool sophistication, acting in the best of her ability that she may be too cool to fall for all the insecurities and anxieties she has about herself (she has to give herself credit for being able to repress her swooning in front of Vergil); but at the same time knowing that her place is simply behind this desk, being a safe, reliable little librarian, complacent with the distance that she will never build a bridge over.

Kathalina sighs and continues with her activity. She scans the book Vergil has returned to her and soon places it on a trolley made for returned books, so they would be placed back to their shelves again. After that, she goes back to her evaluation of the recent online deliveries of new “Great Sciences and Their Research”, and types away on her keyboard, its monotonous _tap, tap, tap_ sound is among the noisiest sounds she’ll hear, besides the minutest sound of a page turning, or the quiet footsteps of the multitude patrons and staff; her well-practiced advice for students to where they can find what for their work drawls across her lips; the industrial sounds of a mechanical ladder from a faraway section, a mop sliding across the floor, a staple wire, a pencil dropping, a mouse clicking on its pad...

Monotonous, dull, humdrum…

Those three words seem to define her routine _and_ herself. Oh well…

The hours tick by predictably and she manages to finish her main task before her break. Walking outside and going across the library to a nearby cafe, Kathalina buys herself the usual sandwich and drink, and sits on a booth outside the cafe. She finds it enjoyable to gaze at this town whenever a holiday is coming. Beautiful little La Piuma is always bursting with color and merriness, and it magnifies tenfold that it’s hard not to feel elated, even though she has no Valentine to spend it with.

She sighs as two women share a chaste kiss as they lounge on one of the benches in the central plaza. One of the plaza custodians is giving away free heart-shaped balloons, and he hands two for the women on the plaza.

Kathalina keeps her gaze on the adorable, old custodian giving away free balloons on the plaza, smiling at this simple gesture. But her smile drops when the old custodian gives one free balloon to Vergil, who seems to have decided to take a break from his work. Vergil appears bewildered at first, but he soon gives the old man a small smile in return after being gifted a balloon. Vergil takes it and—is heading straight for this cafe!

Kathalina begins wrapping her sandwich inside its aluminum wrappings and rapidly gulps down her iced tea, as drinks are not allowed in her desk, for fear of spillages on the documents. Kathalina decides she’ll finish her food after her work day is done, but she’d rather not be—she just _can’t be_ —next to or sharing the same public space with the man of her dreams. She’ll never be able to focus on her food, or her work, or even at her favorite TV show when she goes back home, at all! It had happened already, just a few days after Vergil was introduced as a new teacher in the university; Kathalina was unable to recall the important dates and files she needed to copy and deliver to the guest lecturers at that event. It would’ve been a disaster, had it not been for Vergil _himself_ who assisted her in saving the whole function from crashing down.

No, she can’t afford being a fool again or almost lose her job!

“Kathalina!” The silken voice of her dreams sounds desperate. What the hell is he doing out here anyway? He rarely goes to the cafe she always frequents in and never at the same time. “Wait, please!”

Kathalina was eager to briskly get to the other side of the road to get to the library, but he had begged and...well, it would be rude not to at least hear him out. She didn’t want to be unpleasant to him and risk becoming a sore memory to him. They aren’t going to be together, anyway, so Kathalina might as well indulge this rare, casual conversation.

“Sorry, I’m in a hurry to get back to work, but there are minutes to spare.” It’s a lame excuse, as there is at least an _hour_ before her break ends. To add further humiliation to that poor excuse, Vergil checks his watch and his brows furrow further. Kathalina flushes. Of course, he _knows_ her breaks, even if they’ve never talked about how the librarians have a systematic way of covering each other’s shifts. He is truly much more knowledgeable than what she already gives him credit for.

“I...I apologize for hindering your walk back to work, but I had to stop you.” Vergil steps closer and Kathalina tips her left foot back slowly. “I had wanted to join you on your meal this afternoon. I was told by your replacement, Max, that the cafe is your usual spot.”

 _Damn you, Max! Damn you!_ Of course, the poor, young and new librarian has no idea of Kathalina’s lacking of a love life and is innocent of any crimes, so he shouldn’t be cursed like this. Oh, how she wishes she could just shrink to the size of an ant and be stepped on the pavement.

“Are you truly going back to work now?” Not only does Vergil sound disheartened, Kathalina could see it in his blue eyes. “I promise I won’t waste your time. I do wish to accompany you in your break. And perhaps get you into the details that I hope you can help me with later.”

Kathalina couldn’t stop flushing and her mind from short-circuiting. This just can’t be! Is he asking her for a date—?

 _No! He’s asking for a company, which of course is just a transition to usual business! It’s nothing!_ “I guess I’m just too worried about Max, but I think he’s going to do all right. Um, yes, sure. We can have a meal together.”

Vergil’s whole body relaxes and smiles tenderly. “Excellent! I’ll buy you a dessert.”

They walk back to the cafe, his hand placed gently on her upper back and the heart-shaped balloon’s string is knotted on his briefcase handle. Kathalina’s stomach is bursting with butterflies.

The meal goes on smoothly, with Vergil engaging more than the usual polite conversation and Kathalina is even laughing with him on some of the silly things he and his twin has done on some of their travels. Vergil also muses about how he wishes to do more for some of the students who are lagging behind. Suggesting that they can use the upstairs smaller lecture rooms for their remedials and to take note for future lecture talks, Kathalina hands him a draft of the tentative list of professors, writers, lifestyle advisers, experts, etc. that will be coming to the library’s Discussion Hall this February and March.

“This is more than helpful,” Vergil muses excitedly, his eyes wide and poring over the prestigious names on the list. “The students will be thrilled to listen to them. Thank you, Kat.”

An informal address. Vergil’s rare and intimate use of a colleague’s nickname usually means that a really good thing has happened, which is more usual with his students who seek his help. Somehow, Kathalina feels that there’s something more that’s going on…

His eyes flit from the paper to her, to gaze deeply at her and give her his most tender smile. Kathalina flushes. “For the students. I’ve seen them spend more time in the library than ever before. I’m really glad they’re encouraged.”

Vergil hums, not taking his eyes off her. She, on the other hand, glances away and sips on the straw for her iced tea, only to find that it’s been finished of its contents minutes ago. She flushes further and, glancing at Vergil, sees his smile widen more, showing his teeth.

_This just can’t be. It has to be a prank._

Kathalina checks her watch and Vergil does the same. “I believe that Max’s next task is coming.” She eagerly takes the attention of a wait staff and asks to have the dessert for a take-away. “Thank you for the dessert, Vergil. I’m glad I was a good company.”

“Likewise.” Vergil nods along with his answer, his smile dropping to its usual polite level. “Shall we walk back together, perhaps, Kathalina?”

Formal address. “Yes, of course, Mr. Sparda.”

Kathalina thanks the wait staff for the take-away dessert and strolls out of the cafe, all the while thinking about how much she hated herself from transitioning from a really good, friendly conversation to an abrupt, cold and professional demeanor. She was leading the walk towards the door, when she feels him brush past her and opens the door for her. She suddenly feels like she could taste strawberries in her mouth, instead of the bland iced tea she just had.

“You didn’t have to.” Yet Kathalina walks through the doorway as Vergil holds the door open for her. “But thanks!”

“You’re welcome.” And his tender smile returns.

There is definitely _something_ here…

Vergil suddenly appears to be leading the walk, until he stops and forms his left arm into a hook. “Come.”

Kathalina is _definitely_ being pranked. A few seconds actually pass as Kathalina registers what is happening in front of her. She even looks around the environment to catch a familiar face—a long-time best friend who is pranking her (although that would be impossible, as her best friend hasn’t heard of Kathalina’s new dream boat, nor of anything lately), a colleague who’s daring Vergil to do this on the hapless librarian, or even Vergil’s twin brother hiding comically behind a thin, sapling tree on the plaza, playing matchmaker on his brother—but sees none of them at all!

“Ms. Lombardo, I assure you,” says Vergil, quite impatient and amused at the same time. “This is not a Valentine’s joke and I would never do such a thing on April First. I simply want to treat a colleague, as she has always done commendable work.”

And from that last sentence alone, Kathalina didn’t know if she should sigh in relief or fall back into the cold reality that Vergil is simply being a good friend, and they are nothing more.

It seems to be the latter, but she pretends to sigh with relief. She does her best to smile sincerely. “Oh, Vergil, I’m sorry. I thought your brother may have put you up to this.”

She expects him to scoff and roll his eyes at the mention of his twin. Instead, he surprises her by smirking. He really does look so _beautiful._ “I’m afraid that the other way around happens more frequently, Kat.”

Quiet, she slowly hooks her right arm to his, still reeling from this reality, _this_ reality that there is nothing romantic about them at all. But she should be relieved, right? Kathalina settles into her usual complacent ideology and strolls back to the library, arm in arm with Vergil.

“Oh, and Kat?”

“Yes, Mr. Sparda?”

He immediately doesn’t answer. It’s only when they were near the steps to the library did he continue what he wanted to say. “After you sign in to your shift, will it be too much to ask you for further assistance?”

Kathalina represses the butterflies in her stomach. After all, he had asked her this question on past occasions, when he needs intimate details about certain documents he needs for his personal research. “I pray it isn’t illegal.”

“Now when have I ever? No, I assure you.” He gazes at her and gives her his tender, rather amused smile. “I do not want your career in danger or to drag you to something that could be too personal. I simply need more of you and the Historic Archives’ expertise.”

Kathalina looks up to Vergil with confidence. If there is at least one thing that she can impress this wonderful being, it’s her cataloging skills, sharp memory and knowledge of the past. “We’ll see to it together, then.”

As they reached the doorway of the library, Kathalina unlatches her arm from him and turns to him with a confident grin. “We’ll see in your usual booth, Mr. Sparda.”

And the look he gives her is subtle, but she can see how a sly look is written on his handsome face.

Kathalina couldn’t help but sway in her walk back to her desk.

 

As it turns out, the assistance that Mr. Sparda requires of her was a piece of cake...that is, a piece of cake that, if Vergil is willing to wait, will arrive to him in a week. The paleographical and folklorist team from the main city of Fortuna have been contacted by the Historic Archives team to come over and help them in extracting and interpreting the information he needs from a very ancient and feeble artifact, preserved in the pristine and clinically-sterile Artifacts section.

Not only that, he and the team of experts that will be coming over are going to pore over Vergil’s research to come up with the best interpretation of the ancient text. Vergil had also re-requested to have the book he had returned this early afternoon be borrowed, as it was a mistake to disregard it too early in his investigation.

“ _Archaic Fortuna: The Stories and Its Historical Significance.”_ Kathalina murmurs the title, as if this was the first time she has seen it, yet, on the contrary, she has logged out, signed, recorded it on the database and had assisted in copying pages of it multiple times already in over the two years she had been librarian of La Piuma. This book is basically a collection of Fortuna’s old tales and given expert interpretations by linguists, folklorists, historians, etc., to make sense of all its fantastical stories.

“I particularly like the _Legend of the Savior_.” Vergil adds in a nostalgic tone. He is clearing up his desk of all his belongings, carefully putting each pristine paper in the briefcase compartment. The red, heart-shaped balloon is still tied on the handle of its briefcase. Kathalina thought it was adorable and confident of him to keep that balloon. She remembered how some of his students were giggling and whispering if he has a Valentine.

But the team will be coming at _exactly_ this Valentine’s Day.

Business, as usual, for Vergil.

“About the mysterious demi-god being that supposedly saved the ancient civilization here, in Fortuna, and was hailed to be their king for a while, and then disappeared?” Kathalina recognizes the tale, as there are numerous statues of the Savior in the main city of Fortuna. Although still contested if it did occur or not, the Savior was considered a mythical hero, even here in La Piuma.

“Yes.” The nostalgia doesn’t disappear from his voice. “Our mother used to tell us his tales a lot while we were growing up.”

Kathalina swallows. She also knows what had happened to their mother. Apparently, their mother lived in Angelavale, another town and the oldest in Fortuna, and had moved to another city to get married and have her children. Unfortunately, there was an epidemic in a nearby area they had lived in. Their father had died first, while their mother managed to whisk herself and her boys back to Angelavale, although she would succumb to her sickness in two months. The boys were taken in by their mother’s friend and had lived in Angelavale, until the boys reached eighteen and had gone to different colleges. Dante stayed much closer to their mother’s old town and still lives like the most nonchalant devil in Enamel City. Vergil, on the other hand, had been country-hopping, finishing his degrees and doctorates and what-not.

“Are you contesting against the Savior’s existence or proving it?” It almost feels like intruding his privacy when she asked the question, yet she couldn’t think of any other reason why he’s doing his personal research.

Vergil furrows his brows and deeply thinks over her question. He has crossed one arm across his chest and propped the other to bring his hand to his lips to ponder.

If ancient philosophers were this _damn_ beautiful, perhaps she would’ve perfected her history and philosophy subjects much better back in high school. Oh, Vergil’s students are _so_ lucky…

“I _do_ want to discover more, but not because I believe he had existed, but nor do I doubt that such an event has likely occurred.” A sparkle seems to appear in Vergil’s blue eyes as he speaks with reverence at the topic, but with such tenderness that Kathalina couldn’t _believe_ he is expressing it right in front of her. “I am only seeking a truth that could cement and further respect Fortuna’s illustrious history. Discovering the stories and its many truths are the things I root for.”

Kathalina flushes. “Oh…”

Vergil’s sparkling blue eyes ignites further when his smile widens, showing his teeth. “I hope that satisfies you.”

When will he stop? “It’s your answer and I respect it. I was just, um, curious.”

Vergil hums and keeps his gaze onto her for a little longer, before returning to secure his belongings.

It’s February and winter is still strong here in Fortuna, with snow being fickle as to whether or not to sprinkle itself lightly on the city, or to drown it in white; yet Kathalina is suffocating from the heat of her own body.

Then Vergil sniffs, as if he smelled something, then pulls a handkerchief from his pea coat, coughing and sniffling to it. Kathalina was, at first, suddenly conscious if _she_ had emitted an unsavory scent or perhaps someone was having a foul-smelling snack, which is _strictly forbidden._ But she’s relieved when she realizes that Vergil may be having a cold. Who wouldn’t in this cold, windy season? She suddenly remembers her healthy garlic soup recipe and wonders if she has any ingredients back home…

Vergil clasps his briefcase shut and…doesn’t bring it to his hand. Thinking he may have forgotten something, Kathalina searches in her memories if he had forgotten a photocopy page of the team’s response, or if he had lost his fountain pen on the Historic Archives…

“Kat?”

Kathalina is brought back from her self mind-probing and is forced to look at the beautiful man in front of her. “Uh, yes?” He must’ve lost a button from his pea coat, even though _all_ the buttons are intact.

And he swallows nervously— _nervously?_

He takes a deep breath and goes to his briefcase once again, untying the heart-shaped balloon from its handle. He approaches her, his steps careful, as if he might scare away a doe in the forest, and in Kathalina’s head, that analogy isn’t too far away.

When he’s at least three feet in distance from her does Vergil stop. He twiddles with the string before continuing to speak. “We will be busy in February 14. I suggested a different schedule, but it appears the team is adamant that the date is set, as they have other things to do.” He swallows again and lowers his gaze, shyly looking away for a moment, and then holding his gaze again to look at her. “Perhaps before the fourteenth, on February 12...if you would like…”

_Wait, wait, wait…_

“On Sunday?!” Kathalina couldn’t control her voice for sounding frantic. “Are you asking me out to—to have a—wait…”

The butterflies have become overpopulated in her stomach and she feels as if they have gone to her head, making her faint.

“Kat!” He sounded alarmed, but he had every reason to be, as Kathalina can only see the whole room starting to spin around her, with Vergil being the only one that stayed still. She feels his arms embracing her, cupping her back to support her and to prevent her from falling.

She’s dazed and her sight becomes a bit blurry. She can only feel her body following his as Vergil settles her on one of the chairs of the booth. But he doesn’t let go and she feels that he could be right for fearing that she might pass out, and accidentally fall off the chair.

“Oh, Vergil…” Kathalina wants to apologize for reacting so _strongly_ at this. But she can only muster what she could hope is a very apologetic face, with a dash of begging the angels to take her away from her own misery.

“It’s alright Kathalina, I’m here.” He murmurs to her. He sounds so close to her right ear. Perhaps he is. “Do you want me to call a doctor? Do you feel anything else?”

“I’m...I’m so sorry.” Kathalina means it. Kathalina also means that Vergil will be the death of her, but that would be exaggerating things and would likely make him keep his distance much more effective from now on, so she keeps that. “I can’t...I mean…”

“It’s all right.” He murmurs in his silky voice, a small, tender smile on his lips...or perhaps what her blurry sight perceives is a smile. “Should I get a doctor?”

“No. I’ll be fine.” Kathalina’s strength comes back and she closes her eyes to try to re-focus her sight. When she opens them slowly, she finds herself gazing at a very concerned Vergil, his blue eyes intense and sparkling for her.

Oh, the angels have granted her something else…

“Maybe I can accompany you home, instead?” He sounds firm with this suggestion, despite the question. “And you shouldn’t apologize. I—well, perhaps I shouldn’t have asked—“

“Yes!” She didn’t know where that outburst came from, but it came out of her mouth so _wrong._

Vergil blinks a few times, perplexed, but he softens immediately. “Alright, I’m glad you would let me accompany you home.”

“No, no! I mean…” Kathalina feels like she should know how to punch herself. “Thank you! Thank you for wanting to accompany a wreck like me, and I’m glad, too, because I would be fainting at the middle of the street, with just the idea of dating you! Because dating you would be heaven! So yes!” _Oh, God, I’m breaking..._

And something just as _inconceivable_ happens right in front of her. Vergil bursts into _laughter. Into laughter!_

His laughter is rich, with his whole chest heaving at every sound. It’s contagious and Kathalina finds herself laughing as well, but the flush of embarrassment creeps in and she feels hot tears prick at the corner of her eyes. So she stops, while Vergil lets his laughter take control of his body.

“Oh, oh no, I’m sorry!” Vergil heaves in a broken tone, as he doubles over to stop himself. “Oh, Kat...Kathalina.” He was immediately tender again as he sees her tears. “No, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I thought you...No, no…”

The tears flow, even though there isn’t even any reason to. But her embarrassment wins and Kathalina finds herself nuzzled in the crook of his neck. He procures a tissue from one of his coat pockets and hands it to her. “I apologize, Kathalina. I wasn’t laughing at you.”

Kathalina _knew_ that, but she didn’t trust her voice yet. She let the silence help her sink in what she had just done and how she could even end up being this _so damn close_ to this beautiful man.

He hardly notices it now, and she hadn’t when she almost fainted, but Kathalina has finally found where the heart-shaped balloon is. It floats contentedly in the middle of the booth, brushing its top against the ceiling.

Mustering a shaky breath, she finds her voice again. “I was...I was just so humiliated at myself. I yelled at you.”

“I thought you were excited!” He sounded so confounded, but it returns to his normal, polite tone. “Oh, Kat. I...I should’ve anticipated this.”

It was Kathalina’s turn to become confounded. Truly, _truly_ confounded. “Anticipated?”

Vergil twiddles with his hands, yet a behavior she has only seen now. Is Vergil breaking, too? Right in front of her? _Her,_ of all people?

“I had been thinking of how to approach you the question, for a long while.” His gaze is on the floor, nervously touching his own fingers, as he spills his heartfelt honesty. “But it feels like...you do not want to. You are not interested, at all.”

And Kathalina feels like lightning had struck her. It’s been a year now and ever since she laid eyes on him, she had played coolly in front of him so as to keep herself poised and… _safe_ from falling into her own insecurities, and end up behaving like the hopeless, foolish romantic she really is. She didn’t want to look like a fool, but she already was whenever she acted so annoyingly professional.

She just wants to bury herself alive for committing such an atrocious act!

“I’m sorry, Vergil.” Kathalina sits straight and looks at him sternly. She’s ready to let go, let go of him if it’s necessary, so that this barrier of assumptions are whittled and gone, and they can become true friends…

Friends…

“I had always thought you look wonderful with someone as equally beautiful as you!” Kathalina feels her heart aching, but Vergil deserves to know. But his eyes widen at the words she had spilt, but she presses on. “And that’s not me! I had always thought it’s not me! And from this day forward, it will never be me! And that’s why I played it cool. I could never compete or attract you, Vergil! You’re perfect!”

Vergil laughs hoarsely, shaking his head, disbelieving the words she had said. But they were true! “It’s true!”

“Kathalina…”

“And if you want to take back your ideas about dating me, it’s fine. I want to be clear now! I’m sorry I wasn’t. I didn’t know you liked me—“

And she stops.

Vergil slowly gazes at her wide eyes, realizing _why._ “I’m sorry, too, Kathalina. I’m so, so sorry…” And he moves closer to her, much, _much_ closer than they already are. Kathalina swallows, but her throat is much drier and she can’t do anything about it.

His face is tender, his gaze so sweet and Kathalina could only guess that she’s losing herself in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Kathalina.” His silky voice seems to become warm liquid dripping on her skin. “ _I_ was too cautious. I thought you wouldn’t be interested.”

“I thought _you_ wouldn’t be interested with someone like me, at all.” Kathalina interjected, although her voice is as loud as a squeaking mouse in a corner.

He smirks, but he shakes his head. “Perhaps, this Sunday, we can try again to get to know one another.”

And she feels her boldness on the tips of her fingers. She slithers her hand on his chest, feeling the smooth fabric of his shirtdress underneath the open pea coat. His breath hitches at contact and he moves his face closer to hers. She doesn’t move away this time. She keeps her gaze upon his pale, beautiful face and eyes, enjoying the body heat he is emitting. Strangely, his nostrils flare and he takes a whiff of the space between them, as if her scent is merely the floating particles of a perfume. Kathalina’s breath hitches as well when he continues to sniff her scent, but this time closing the gap between them; his nose tip gently touches the skin of her neck and she squirms.

“Yes…” Her voice sounded foreign to her, but she knew it was hers.

“Hmm?” He hums absentmindedly, still smelling her skin and her hair.

“This Sunday. Can it be a pasta date?”

And she can feel Vergil’s lips widen into a smile. “Yes. Anything else you want, my dear?”

Oh, what else? What else? Oh, just listening to him is enough, but that would be too odd of a request at this early phase. Perhaps that would be a request for another time. Perhaps he can audition to be a narrator for an audiobook. He could pass it easily and she would be listening to it until she breaks the file.

“Um, you can pick the wine.”

Kathalina smiles when she feels the vibration of his small laughter. “Yes, of course.”

And with that, Vergil stands up from the chair and offers her his hand. With a bit more confidence and mirth bubbling inside her, Kathalina takes his hand.

Finally taking the briefcase, Vergil doesn’t forget the balloon. He takes the string in his long fingers and ties it around her wrist. Kathalina flushes at the gesture, but feels the heat of the sun on her skin when Vergil takes the same hand to his and entwines his fingers through hers.

Kathalina thanks the angels for giving her the strength not to faint.

When they exited the library, night time had blanketed the whole town and the Valentine’s Day decor comes alive once more. The reds, pinks and whites of the incoming holiday warm the still grayish-white season of February. Kathalina’s shift had ended an hour ago, but the library will remain open until late at ten in the evening, with a different librarian and with different patrons. Students are still prowling around the plaza, but more so in the market districts, where the discounts, specialties and holiday items are up for grabs.

Vergil asks her if she wants to buy something from the markets, but she assures him that home is her best destination, so Vergil agrees. He accompanies her to the parking lot, two blocks away from the library and sees his beautiful, vintage car. Getting inside, the car purrs like a well-fed tiger and drives like a dream. And from the passenger’s window, Kathalina looks at their town in a new perspective, here inside Vergil’s car, smoothly cruising through familiar streets to get her home.

When they arrive, Kathalina has to stop herself from swooning as Vergil walks her up the few steps up to the boarding house’s door. Procuring her keys, Vergil remains vigilant at their surroundings.

“It’s a quiet neighborhood.” Kathalina assures him, but Vergil remains watchful. “I know there had been night attacks recently. The news is saying a batch of young Prowlers is coming into Fortuna, but some say this is just a cash grab for the demon hunters that had been itching to kill again.”

The sudden venom in his voice is bone-chilling, however. “Whichever is true, I’m also _concerned_ about the recent abnormal snowing lately. They’ve been acting up since before New Year’s Eve…”

The chills his voice induced didn’t fade away even after she opens the door. The light inside is warm and the voices of tenants a welcoming feeling, yet the sentence that Vergil had claimed is scaring her. She couldn’t help it. “Wha...what do you mean?”

“Hm? Oh, uh...it’s nothing.” He doesn’t sound reassuring, but his tender expression is lulling her into a false sense of security she couldn’t help but fall into.

“Be safe on your way home, Vergil.” She said it. There. Because she does care. She’s tired of how Ms. Lombardo’s cool and professional voice is, anyway.

Vergil’s smile is soft and loving. “Thank you. I can’t wait this Sunday.”

“Yeah.” She can’t help her gushing. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” And with that, Kathalina closes the door and giggles. She stands against the door for a few seconds, then rushes to the nearest window to see him. She watches as he gets inside the car and starts its engine. He even looks back to the boarding house and sees her; he smiles and waves goodbye, and she waves back, as he drives away.

“Well, he was certainly a looker.” One of the tenants, a young boy of nine, points out. He is smiling at Kathalina and appears to have seen them come in.

“Josh, where’s your mom?” Kathalina rubs the boy’s long, curly hair, to which he giggles and tries to swat away her hand.

“Are you guys gonna have a date on Sunday?” the boy teases.

“Josh,” Kathalina’s tone is mockingly reprimanding. “You go to your mom, now.”

Without any more playful teasing, Josh scrambles back up the stairs to go back to his apartment home, giggling all the way.

Going back to her apartment home on the third floor, Kathalina decides to first crash into her bed to writhe on its mattress, giggling and celebrating at the sudden turn of her luck!

As she gushes and bounces around her bed, the heart-shaped balloon floats contentedly in her room.

 

Vergil’s smile is still serenely plastered in his content face. He is driving back to the night markets to buy the vintage wines La Piuma has promised they would be stocking in selected sellers and stores. Usually, Vergil is pragmatic and would only be lucky to find at least one bottle left of that particular wine. Tonight, however, having conversed so _intimately_ with Kathalina has him feeling that he could get lucky. Luckier, when he plays his cards right this Sunday. And with his multitude of winning streaks in poker (he’s recently stopped playing against Dante, because he can never play it seriously enough to want to win), it’s good to say that he and Kat _will_ win the jackpot.

The smile is still there even as he picks up his phone, looking into the ID and realizing it’s his brother, and presses the answer button. Because, _God,_ her smile, her voice, her _scent!_ Every time she gushes and feels elated, her pheromones just _wrap_ itself around Vergil…

He truly cannot wait this Sunday. But he must, and he will, since he and Kathalina are practically fated together…

“Date night?! On Sunday?!” Dante’s voice, identical to his in so many ways, yet a million miles more annoying than it could possibly be, sounds giddy through the other line.

And how did he know?

“How did you know?” Vergil’s voice is low and venomous.

There was a _tsk, tsk_ sound from his brother’s lips and Vergil _swears_ he is going to run his sword through his brother’s gut. “Vergil, Vergil, Vergil. The Prowlers you killed last night, well, not all of them converged on your area. It seems they let you took the bait. Looks like they’re following you.”

“How are you sure?” There’s panic in his voice. Kathalina—

“I’ve decided to check on Morrison last night. It looks like they’re going to hit La Piuma harder. And they want you out of the game. What they didn’t know was that you got a more devilishly handsome twin here in Enamel City, and thought to take me out, too. Seriously, don’t they know I have standards before going out?”

Vergil wanted to scream, but that would be counter-productive. He swerves the car and turns to another corner, where the road will take him to a freeway. He needs to see his brother now. If he had taken this information in Enamel City, then the group that wants him dead could be converging there.

But there’s a hole in this logic. La Piuma would become a hotbed of activity if he’s gone.

He stops the car abruptly. He really _wants_ to scream.

“Vergil!” His brother’s urgent voice—rarely used—wakes him back to reality. “Look, Trish can be there to assist you! And besides, it’ll be sad to know my brother’s only date becomes a disaster!”

“Thanks for your concern.” He retorts dryly. But an idea is already forming in his head. “Dante...tell Trish that she doesn’t have to come over. I have a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a tumblr: bees-and-greg-9229
> 
> I still really feel that I didn't write Vergil right, as a romantic protagonist character. I apologize if he's so...out of character. It's hard to get him just right since the prequel game from the Classic was the only game he was fleshed out. Never mind the manga! I don't think they did a good job with that!
> 
> Well, if there is anything that needs to be fixed, I'll write him differently in a different story than this. I admit, this is my gushiest, flowery Vergil that I've imagined him to be.


	2. Trouble Brews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil and Dante worry for the onslaught of demons that want to flood winter in this small town. As they race to find answers, Kathalina is faced with a creature intent in completing vengeance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 update: More details are changed and updated here, as I've polished the "detective/thriller" tone of this story's crime sub-plot.
> 
> 2017: More in-depth demonic activity and violence, some tear-jerking implied violence against victims and the usual brotherly banter. Also, supporting characters...
> 
> I am sorry for the poor detective-ish/investigation writing that's part of the >le gasp!< whole story.

Vergil deftly decapitates the Prowler within his Cloaking, ensuring he is invisible, even in the darkest twilight.

But not to her.

The Prowler he has killed was one of the naughtiest, yet he didn’t deserve to die. He wanted an outlet, he wanted _adventure…_

_He was young…_

And what does an _ignorant fool_ do to what he deems as _monsters_?

Eliminate them, of course!

The sound and rush of a tall young man suddenly jumping his own house’s fence behind her startles her and it’s a _wonderful thing_ to feel how a young human can be so innocently _breathtaking._

“Hey!” The soft voice of her boyfriend quells the rage inside her heart, for now, and feels his arms around her shoulders. She embraces him back and gets a whiff of his freshly-bathed skin. She sighs in his warmth…

“Let’s go. My dad’s gone off to work already, so...uh...we have time!”

“Where do you want to go?”

He ponders, his lips pouting, and she thinks he is adorable like this. “How about an early breakfast at Little Italy? They open at around six and they got breakfast specialties there!”

She nods and they go about their way, while Vergil had long disappeared into the darkness…

“You told me you will have exams next week. Will we have to cancel our Valentine’s date?”

“No way!” He exclaims, looking very taken aback at the idea that they will not be together a few days from now. “My professor’s probably gonna have a date, too. He’ll make it easy for us…”

With that thought, her boyfriend smirks, but he ponders yet again. “Although...he did say he’s going to set our exams much earlier, ‘cause he likes his weekends a lot...which means…”

“What does it entail?” She is actually quite intrigued at their teacher.

“...it means our last exams will be on Monday, _before_ Valentine’s Day! Hah!”

“You seem to have a very stern professor.”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and she finds it very amusing to see his lips beaming. “Nah, he’s actually pretty cool _and_ he even criticizes the Tertiary Education System for all its drawbacks. Anyway, he loves weekends. He probably has a date on Sunday, which he seems to be planning to be free of any work, anyway. Probably with the librarian. So…”

“We’ll also have our date this Tuesday?”

“And before that,” he tightens his hold around her waist and she snuggles close to his shoulder. “We’ll have our weekends together.”

“But your exam…?”

Again, he shrugs his shoulders and smirks. “Hmph. I’ll succeed.”

It was her turn to beam up at him. “Yes. I believe it so.”

“Oh, right!” He exclaims, remembering something. “That plant you gave me, it’s grown a bit! Thanks a lot, by the way!”

Again she beams and she tenderly grasps his hand to hers. “You’re welcome.”

She already knew he had been taking care of the plant she gave him— _is_ taking care of it. But him letting her know of his kind deeds warms her heart and makes her forget about the eternal winter that will come soon, even if just for a while…

 

Kathalina had been giggling, squealing and bouncing around her apartment like a lovesick maniac so _hard,_ she had disturbed their boarding house’s two week-old new tenant.

She had knocked on her door and had asked if there was something bad happening. The poor younger woman—of college age or less—looked very worried and Kathalina apologized profusely for disturbing her.

“I’m really sorry! I was just really excited about—well, I’m going to have a date this _Sunday_!”

And the girl’s face lights up, dropping the whole ‘noisy neighbor’ issue. “Oh, me too!”

“I’m so happy!” Kathalina could feel her squealing coming up again, but represses it and offers the girl some late night snacks.

“Oh! Accompany you for snacks? I—I couldn’t be such a bother!” She blushes and Kathalina understands. The shy, demure and lonely girl isn’t even in school and is working herself to the bone as a waitress to pay for her rent on a shoebox room at the end corner of the boarding house. She has no known friends or family, and the few tenants in the boarding house that are concerned for her are the closest she’ll have as both.

“No, you’re not. Come on in, it’s okay.” Kathalina opens the door wider for the girl to come inside her apartment.

“Let me say goodnight to Josh first and tuck him in. I had baby sat him for a while. His parents went to shop in the night markets this afternoon…”

Kathalina nods in understanding, but a smirk crosses her lips. So that’s why that little tyke was out of his apartment home earlier...

Coming back a few minutes later, the girl lets her know that she had also called Josh’s parents and is in his bed. Again, the girl is reluctant to ‘intrude her abode’, but Kathalina is insistent.

“Please, come in. I want to spend time with you!” She assures her with all the kindness she can muster in her voice. Tentatively, the girl takes a step forward inside; as Kathalina gently pushes the door to a close, she hears the boarding house’s window downstairs suddenly snap shut. Thinking there could be a burglar, Kathalina tells the girl to wait inside after borrowing the spare key for Josh’s apartment, while she investigated.

She wasn’t the only one who heard the mysterious noise; tenants from the ground level are already out to take a look. There are no prints on the carpeted part of the hallway downstairs, nor any signs of forced entry on the window. The landlady dialed for a police regarding a suspected burglar or squatter, and they expect a cop would be coming in twenty minutes. The boarding house remains alert.

Passing by the same window again, Kathalina sees snowflakes are starting to float down outside. Re-checking Josh in his apartment, she finds him reading his superhero books in his bed, when the phone rings. His parents are fifteen minutes away from the boarding house and will be home soon. With a hug, Kathalina bids goodnight to Josh and ensures all the windows and the door are locked.

When Kathalina comes back inside, she explains the whole thing to the girl and tells her not to worry. The girl merely nods and asks, “Did your Valentine give you that?” She plays with the heart-shaped balloon’s string, dreamily preoccupied with the adorable thing. Kathalina smiles and says yes, and goes to her kitchen to procure her homemade biscuits. “Your home is so nice.”

“Thanks. I make little DIY’s on my spare time. Would you like some garlic soup?”

“Yes please.” The girl looked positively happy at the sound of that. Kathalina wondered if there were days the girl ate anything at all. She and the other tenants would sometimes gather on the Dining Hall on Sundays to eat dinner and they have fun doing it. Kathalina hopes the girl isn’t refusing the food out of any reasons of shame.

Now seated and comfortable, the girl and Kathalina exchange details of their Valentine’s while they sip on soup and eat biscuits. As the girl asked again why she’s so excited, Kathalina does her best to objectively indulge her tidbits of Vergil; after listing the top three from a thousand things why Kathalina finds Vergil attractive, she asks the girl of who her date is. The girl is blushing and excited to have met a university student, and how he wants to spend the whole weekends with her.

“He sounds really into you...” Kathalina sighs. In her school years, there was nothing but her studies. Out-of-school parties, secret gigs, even dating, was foreign to her younger self. _Because you wanted to leave Mom, you wanted to leave the sad house that was never your home…_

Yes, there was that. But now, she’s free and an adult, and she would like nothing more than to live it as best as possible.

“Yes...we even met before I went to work.” Her face, already a bright strawberry color, blushes further.

“I hope you two stayed out of trouble.” Kathalina’s tone was stern. “There are Prowlers out there. Not to mention, criminals. I wonder sometimes, if they actually work together to make people’s lives miserable…”

Kathalina mused, but the girl didn’t continue what she wanted to say. Afraid she sounded like some stern mother hawk, Kathalina corrects it. “Well, I _do_ hope you two stayed out of trouble and didn’t bump into anybody! I mean, we’re not your parents, but we would still be awfully worried if you went missing.”

“I know.” She says, her voice very low. There was silence as the girl didn’t add anymore to that. Kathalina bites her lip and thinks of anything that could turn this around.

“Where will you be dating? Maybe me and my Valentine will bump into you this Sunday.”

That seemed to cheer the girl up, even for a bit. “He says the plaza will be turning into a small amusement area. That’s where we’ll be.”

“I promise not to dampen any romantic plans when we see each other.” Kathalina adds with a teasing smile. As a sign of her word, she brings up her pinky finger for the girl’s to curl to…

...but she merely looks at it with a puzzling look.

“Oh, it’s a pinky swear.” Kathalina explains, cheerfully extending her arm towards the girl for her to latch her pinky finger. “I promise not to dampen your Valentine’s date, because I know how everyone deserves a good and happy night. Well, a _safe,_ happy night, for everyone.”

Kathalina beams at her cheerfully, but the girl merely looks at her pinky finger, her grin slowly disappearing. Kathalina’s heart drops. Was there something that she said? That she had done? She didn’t want the girl to be sad; she wanted her to feel happy.

“Ann? Anfisa, are you okay?”

Anfisa’s gaze turns to the window, where snowflakes softly fall outside. Her eyes are concentrating, yet distant. Even when Kathalina brings her hand to touch the girl’s hand to soothe her, the girl remains quiet.

“Ann, did something happen? Please, you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I guess it can’t be helped. It just can’t be delayed anymore. Even I don’t want to.”

Kathalina’s eyes squint, trying to make sense of what the girl had just said. “I’m sorry?”

“Prowlers aren’t bad, they just...they got lost. Like me.”

Kathalina’s eyes widen, her fingers twitching away from the girl. “...what?”

The shocking sound of her window snapping open and closing just as quickly spooks her, letting out a shriek as the cold wind and snow from outside comes in. Did someone--some _thing_ just enter her apartment? Or did it just escape—?

With her sad hazel eyes, Anfisa looks up to Kathalina. “My date told me a lot about his teacher. I guess he’s not so bad, not unlike the Prowlers I took in…”

 

The plan involved annihilation. Dante usually suggests these things, but it only becomes a last resort option. With Vergil, however, seething with rage—Dante could only imagine him grinding his teeth in a very cartoonish sense—and probably has an inflated dick for his lovely date this Sunday, annihilation _is_ the only option.

And since he’s such a good and generous little brother, Dante obliges. “Just so you know, Morrison’s still questioning an insurgent and it’s a good thing he’s ratting them out. It looks like we’ve been having competition…”

Dante lets that trail off. Well, actually, _he’s_ been having dark competition in Enamel City. And now, they appear to be having a sort of cooperative trade-off if they get rid of the best hunters.

“ _You scratch my back, I scratch yours.” They better make sure Prowler claws won’t get them killed off too soon._

Most demon hunters—newbies and veterans alike—converge in big cities to have some kind of unofficial get-together to celebrate big kills; but more often than not, most demon hunters are into dirtier tactics and businesses, including their plan to kill off competition. Yep, screwy pieces of shit, those people are!

Dante, Trish and the rest of them have always gone into more legit, community-based, underground types. It’s a good way to boost morale and to simply help another one out, regarding certain creatures that just won’t stop terrorizing a small town or family. And also because who in their right mind would go to an illegal one and risk having them know you too well?

 _Okay, my bad, I did a few months ago, but Morrison and I had_ perfect _excuse to go into one._

If memory serves him right, these ‘demon hunters’ were engaged with trafficking _so many_ people and creatures, selling them to big shots to do God-knows-what. Dante successfully busted that one down, of course—except for the fact that one of the illegal shipping containers they were supposed to save ended up being thrown by an enormous Gigantipede. Yes, that one was _also_ an illegal creature being trafficked to--

...Hmm, if memory serves him right, the Gigantipede was supposed to become one of the main ingredients for the manufacture of a beauty product.

Of course, Vergil finds out, comes in to ‘correct’ things and saves the day; he’s also vehement in making sure traces of his and Dante’s presence are wiped clean from the scene, with Morrison fixing the evidence of a black market trade gone tenfold wrong and a big request to “The Sapients’ Rights Organization” to help in rounding up the poor creatures. Gigantipede, included.

As for the missing container that was thrown, estimated to be somewhere in La Piuma’s rural area...well, they found the container, but its live contents are still being searched all over the vast woods next to La Piuma. He and Morrison _had_ been checking on the “Rights” Team regarding the police’s investigation on the probable contents of the missing container; they’re beginning to conclude that a sentient demon was captured among a few Prowler younglings, but it’s inconclusive for now to link those younglings with the rabid Creep that’s terrorizing La Piuma.

As for the twins, it would appear that, with big brother always looking out for them, Dante’s identity and their secret demon-hunting business is secured. But that would be underestimating Dante’s skills in building a reputation.

_I mean, the big neon sign on my office isn’t exactly inconspicuous!_

Oh, he’s collected them all: Demon Slayer, The Man in Red, The White Devil Who Thwarts Demons…

Bad Luck Harlequin...

Yes, he’s aware _that one_ came from Lady.

His bad poker games has practically halved Dante’s side of the inheritance, while his least successful demon-hunting gigs has been leaving a trail of property damage, which had recently halved Vergil’s side of the inheritance. Yes, this string of bad financial luck on Dante’s side is normal, along with bad PR, and normally people had come and gone to his office with death threats (not effective), more poker games (a bit effective) or threats with slandering and publicizing his business (most effective), to which Morrison and Vergil quell with the following assurances:

A.) That their ‘clean-up’ business will remain out of public eye, especially the more personal ones; B.) That he and Dante _will_ stay within their ‘hunting territories’ and will not dabble with another hunter’s (Dante’s got enough of that with Lady), unless collaboration is needed; C.) That any suspicious demon- or creature-fraternizing, trading, unjustifiable killings or any kind of involvement, and/or crime will be reported immediately (Dante’s not guaranteeing that most of the time. He needs to act, or risk losing the perpetrator and the victim). D.) And, of course, making sure property damage is minimal as best as possible. The local government and police in Enamel City, that Morrison is both ‘friends’ with, will cover it with the whole city’s taxes. If that’s the logic, then technically Dante’s still paying Enamel City’s government to fix the damages, being a taxpayer and all.

Well, _fine then,_ since Dante is such a good and generous citizen, after all.

Dante can’t help being himself; if there’s trouble, he _has_ to be there. If another demon hunter is calling for help (with or without compensation), _he’ll_ be there. If his brother is telling him that they need to attract these Prowlers and make them follow towards the thick, wooded area situated between La Piuma and into the long-ass freeway bridge towards Fortuna City, _Dante will be there!_

Never mind property damage, never mind politics; never mind he’s risking his identity, his privacy and their business being leaked, his reputation...Dante’s a fucking demon hunter, _period._

And he knows, deep down, Vergil would want to be free from these regulations and social taboos. Isn’t that why he’s a professor, a _big fucking_ target and a public figure, who’s into helping kids grow up way better than those assholes who want to kill off their competition because they’re greedy and twisted? Deep down, he knows Vergil _seethes_ at being limited.

Vergil is quiet on the other line, but he can hear the distinct engine of his favorite vintage car. Dante represses a sputtering laugh. _Oh, big bro. You’re on your phone while driving? Tsk, tsk. Next step: drinking while driving. Lemme just get him my Jack Daniels…_

“They’ve likely been acting on orders.” Vergil finally surmises. Dante scoffs. They’ve figured that out already.

“Duh, these creep of Prowlers are adolescent. And horny. But they’d still need a kind of Alpha to get them going. The mature ones are safe in their mountain territory. They’re staying out of this, unless they want to get wrecked by a younger and more aggressive Prowler--”

“It’s not just the Prowlers I’m referring to.” Vergil’s voice sounds monotonous. His twin is like this when his grey-matter gears are full-on turning.

“You sayin’ _someone’s_ made this plan, like a head-honcho.” Dante’s voice is playfully mocking, as if he’s insulted. “I mean, why _didn’t_ I think of that when we’re here _with one of their insurgents?_ ”

“Not just from being commanded…like, perhaps… _manipulated_ into it.” Vergil’s murmur is low and venomous. “Lastly, I’m thinking someone has made an imprint on this Creep.”

Then Dante’s own gears are suddenly turning. “Enamel City police _did_ confirm that Prowler DNA was found on the missing black market container. Remember that, Verg?”

He hears his twin groan exasperatedly. Oh, he remembers...Dante does his best not to chuckle at his twin.

“I remember.”

“It’s all still inconclusive, but the fact that the missing container is suddenly _too_ devoid of any trace, except for that one DNA evidence, that it was used _means_ that either they were illegally hauling clean freaks, or the sentient demon has imprinted itself amongst the younglings, _and_ wiped most of their traces clean, and they’re pretty good at it.” Dante could just imagine it: a disgruntled demon stuck with a bunch of whining, baby creatures with no mother, who were all former captives and lost; and they suddenly got tossed into the wilderness to fend for themselves, after being subjected to God-knows-what by those asshole hunters that took them. “Question now is, _why.”_

Vergil scoffs loudly from the other line, while does his best not to snort in amusement. Angry big bro who’s lost his cool, is a very _deadly_ big bro who’s lost his cool. “We’ll worry about motives later. The fact that these Prowlers aren’t just aggressive, they’re loyal to the one making the _orders!_ And they know an intimate detail about my date this Sunday...they can be _anywhere_ trying to get to us.”

Then he hears from his twin a sound that they only reserve for their mom’s gravestone: a sob. Vergil sobs for a few seconds, which to Dante _does_ sound too tragic. “And all I gave her is a balloon, before I left...”

“What?!” Dante is smack-dab, flabbergasted! No wonder he’s upset!

He’s known about Vergil’s little crush to the hot librarian in La Piuma since his orientation in the university. And knowing his twin, Vergil is agonizingly slow in making his intentions known. “Not even a kiss? Come on, Verg, seal the deal with a kiss! Go back—”

“No! I can’t risk making them follow me all the way to her boarding house. They weren’t there yet when I dropped her to her place. I can’t. Too many people will see me, even with a Cloaking…”

Dante shakes his head, disappointed. “And all you left her behind for now is a _balloon_.”

Vergil’s groan is long and most likely through gritted teeth. Well, so much for sobbing. Dante does his best not to guffaw at his twin’s distress. He truly _is_ concerned about the whole situation, but hearing Vergil’s long-ass groan in frustration is funny.

“Please tell me that you and Morrison are at least _somewhere_ discreet and with your protective enchantment, as well. Those Prowlers are looking for us! You can’t endanger the turncoat and Morrison just because you can gung-ho your way out!”

Dante represses an annoying sigh from being lectured about protection. He’s used protection since he was sixteen, thank you very much!

“We’re in our War Bunker. Don’t sweat it!” The War Bunker is exactly that--an old war bunker built under Morrison’s property, to supposedly hold out the nuclear radiation being dropped by bombs. Now, it can hold out an assortment of hexes, hellion fire and astral espionage.

“Please! Mr. Redgrave, they told me that you have a sibling who works as a teacher in La Piuma!” The old demon hunter—who had willingly come to surrender himself because of overwhelming guilt and disgust from what these demon hunters are doing—was suddenly begging, his desperation and fear is making him cling on his own shoulders. “Please, listen to me, the Alpha--she’s highly dangerous, but the hunters who work for her—! They took me in! I was a small-time hunter, and I needed money to keep the house for my son! He couldn’t afford to live in a college dorm or even the full tuition payment...oh, God! Please!”

“Just damn spit it out!” Morrison shouted, although it sounded more frustrated than truly angry. “What else are they planning, anyway? And how are they gonna benefit from letting the Prowlers take over La Piuma, and then the rest of Fortuna, huh?”

The old hunter shook in his seat, but he rubs his old face with his weathered hands, as if to wipe away the fear that kept creeping into his features. “The Prowlers...they will feed on _everybody! Everybody!_ Not even the hunters will be spared! But they don’t know that! Or rather, they think they can outsmart these creatures. And these things will win. Simple as that!”

“But why? There are actual wild Prowlers who don’t even bother human settlements. And now, we’re dealing with a bunch of aggressive ones, led by your boss!” Dante had to interject. With his phone now in speakers, Vergil can hear the whole conversation.

“Please, I don’t know.” He pleaded, as if he was going to be hit again, even though neither Morrison nor Dante had since they took him in the War Bunker. _Morrison_ did _shove the old panicky hunter to the sofa, though. Does that count?_

“I—I—I was in charge of taking care the new younglings and keeping an eye out for them! I didn’t want to engage in—in _killing_ —they _killed_ people, okay! They killed them! And they swear they were gonna get my son if I so much as talk that I work with them and ratted them out!”

“Mr. Halfield?!” Vergil’s voice blared through the phone’s speakers. “Redgrave, talk to me! Now!”

He puts it back to regular speakers. “Lemme guess, his son—”

“—is _my_ student!” Vergil’s voice is cold with panic. Dante’s worried, too. Who knew this Alpha has already gotten an upper hand, although it felt _too good_ of a coincidence that their leader would suddenly have a hold on a random college student.

“Vergil, listen to me,” Dante’s voice is calm and assuring. If there was anything good about being laid-back, it was that it enabled Dante to sound zen. And, of course, his brother needs him, knowing a student—or more—could be saved from this. “We do this plan, right now. I’m getting on my bike and we’ll be on the woods under the freeway bridge. This is perfect bait!”

“Yes, it will be. But I need to check on the Halfield residence to make sure his son isn’t harmed.”

Dante nods and is already going for the door. “Yep, do that.” Then he turns to Morrison and Mr. Halfield. “Calm down. I have an, uh, _acquaintance_ who’s gonna check on your son.”

“We live in Block 12, Piccolo Uovo Houses! Please, _my son!_ ” The old hunter is definitely in hysterics and Dante can understand.

“You probably know where that is already, don’t you?” Dante’s lips quirk at those words as Vergil’s antagonized huff is heard. A loud screeching of wheels is also heard from the other line. It looks like Vergil is driving beyond the speed limit.

“Did you put your seatbelt on?” Dante goads through the angry driving Vergil is committing, but his twin doesn’t retort back.

But then a distinct roar comes to temporarily deafen Dante’s ear. There was a sound of glass shattering and his brother’s groaning is the last thing he hears before the line went dead.

_Well, shit._

“Morrison, I’ll let you know if we, uh, _succeed._ ” He says with a nonchalant wave of his hand, a gesture that he’s leaving.

“You really think _they’re_ going to follow you and your, uh, acquaintance to the forest?” Morrison, as always, is a skeptic. But, as it _almost always_ is the case, his skepticism is pacified in the end. If there was any subtext to why he asks such questions, it’s probably a way to goad a challenge and spark amusement in this business.

Dante pulls open the door, a dastardly too-confident smile forms, thinking about the shit they’re about to deal. “Like I said, you’ll know when we’ll let you.”

“Your sibling!” Mr. Halfield’s panicky voice is—no offense—starting to destroy Dante’s ears, and he tries not to roll his eyes. “You need to inform your sibling, Mr. Redgrave! He’s no demon hunter and he might be used as blackmail against you—!”

“Look, whatever kind of information your... _ex-partners_ have acquired,” Dante interrupts the old hunter, trying to repress his pissed-off tone. Because, _really,_ how ill-informed is this guy? And, in Dante’s head, their Alpha may be deliberately withholding information from them. Another asshole…

“I can _assure you_ they know almost next to _nothing_ who my sibling is.” And with that, Dante nods at Morrison, who nods knowingly back at him.

With that, Dante gives them a wink of his eye, along with a laid-back grin and leaves the bunker. After he closes the door, Mr. Halfield, however, is still drowning in cold sweat, his eyes wide in fear and looking at Morrison, as if the most ridiculous thing has just happened in front of his eyes. “ _How is he this calm?_ ”

 

The plan involved annihilation. This meant there was no guarantee that his car was to survive for this plan to work. Vergil did not, however, anticipate that it was going to be _wrecked_ this early. His mind could only wonder, of all things, how he was to drive for Kathalina on their date this Sunday.

The dry chuckle Vergil lets out grates his throat. _I can’t believe I’m still worried about that!_

The gorgeous, heavily-customized, powder-blue Firearrow coupe had just been _totaled_ from the clawed foot of the Prowler; and it’s only a few meters towards the Piccolo Uovo Residence area.

“Nice car.” Hissed the playful, buck naked Prowler; standing proud over the hood of Vergil’s car. “Too bad you can’t drive your date around with this _huge_ dent on it. Not classy.”

He grits his teeth as he tastes his wrath boiling inside his throat. How could he have not sensed this amateur coming in?

_Re-focus. You can’t get angry. It’s weakness._

Vergil shakes his head to shake off the rage, putting a hand on the bloodied bruises on his face, which are already healing. Still sprawled on all fours on the cold road, Vergil pretends to double over as he tries to get upright. He feels the Prowler walking casually closer, as anticipated. _Let him choke on how proud he is, at first…_

“I was told to get you alive,” said the Prowler, painfully putting his clawed feet on Vergil’s back, pinning him there…for now. “But you _will_ be more or less alive when I _present_ you to Alpha.”

Vergil let out a cold snicker. “I plan the same thing.”

The only thing the Prowler got as a warning is a blue light _bursting_ from above, before being peppered with a legion of blades! This was enough for Vergil to stagger the Prowler off him and quickly stand up!

To the Prowler’s credit, it still manages to laugh at Vergil while it pulled out the blue blades stuck on every body part the blades impaled. But this only harassed Vergil’s temper. With a swish of Vergil’s coattails, a whipping gale gusts at the wounded Prowler, who had now realized that toying Vergil is a slow, capital punishment.

“So, Alpha was right…you’re _not_ just a teacher…”

Vergil harrumphs and he extends his left hand to his side; a bright, dazzling light erupts from the palm of his hand; from it formed Vergil’s powerful katana!

The Prowler roared, the wind from its soundwaves bends the minutest particles of the empty, rural road, but it _refracts_ and bends backwards when it reaches Vergil. A different aura surrounds him…

“You got that right!” Vergil proudly asserts. With his right hand, he sweeps his pale hair back to keep it from hanging in front of his eyes. His left hand deftly twirls the long katana out of its long sheath, as the latter disappears into the light, while the long blade glows an eerie, bright blue. He swipes the blade across, cutting the air in half before he deftly points the tip of the katana blade at the Prowler’s face.

“And as a teacher, I make sure _all lessons_ will be learned before little delinquents, like _you_ , get your recess…”

 

“Ann…” Kathalina’s voice seems to be failing inside her throat, while other senses feel more acute, including her fear. Her heart beats as she stays _frozen_ at realizing… _at_ _realizing something sinister_ _is about to happen._

“Marcelin and I met when he and his classmates were in, what you call, a field trip.” Anfisa spoke as if she was being interviewed for a job: matter-of-factly, casually recollecting memories, while ignoring the fact that she is horrifying her neighbor. “He thought I lived in a farmhouse not far from where they’re studying potted plants. He must’ve thought so, because I was wearing a pair of farmer’s boots, old dress and an apron. I stole them, because I had no clothes since I was captured. That was two months ago…”

There was a glassy-eyed sadness in her hazel eyes, but she manages a small chuckle. “Hmm…I guess looking like this, so harmless and…unassuming…nobody would think I could do anything. But when they locked me up for weeks while they simulated tests on me, they were expecting a new result, something different…I thought I could escape every time they gave me doses, but I couldn’t, no matter how powerful the doses made me feel…”

Kathalina’s skin crawls. There had been news of illegal creatures being sold, trafficked and hunted down for the black market…

“Ann…” There were tears on Kathalina’s eyes. She honestly didn’t know what to feel, but _knowing_ this poor girl had gone through horrific things is too painful.

Yet, Kathalina’s mind also races back to the fairy tales she had read in middle school; she had never been read children’s books when she was little, so when she was of that age when childish fears are easily shrugged off, analytical thinking dug a hole for the nightmarish tales to be buried six feet down into her subconsciousness…

Now they are bursting from their graves as demons in disguises, creatures pretending, criminals lying, to get their victim to lower their guard, to get them under their spell!

“It’s okay.” Anfisa whispers, her voice gentle and cracking under her own confused feelings. “I know you’re scared. I was scared, at first; because humans and demons are alike in many ways…They more often than not work together…”

Kathalina swallows and her brow furrows, but she doesn’t trust her voice to ask _what are you?_ But she remains quiet to listen. Kathalina _is_ trapped to whatever will happen to her; might as well make sure not to anger the girl and risk having to die painfully.

“…I couldn’t tell the difference sometimes, especially under forced influence…but when I was finally free, I realized the differences weren’t intrinsic with each species. There are demons and humans who are kind…Marcelin Halfield, his classmates, their proctor Mr. Sparda (Kathalina’s heart beats faster as she feels a coldness run through her system, making her hair stand up), the farmers, the neighbors here…and of course, the lost babies…”

“Babies?” Kathalina feels too horrified at this point—

Anfisa’s lips curl. “My Prowlers.”

The blood that ran through her veins grows colder and colder, that Kathalina is sure she’ll die just sitting here and listening to this horror story.

She continues. “They were crying and helpless. They…needed me. So I helped them. Eventually, though, we realized we were being tracked. We didn’t know if they were the same hunters who took us into their chambers. So I made sure our trail was erased. I was relieved to find that they were just police. But one of them, _he_ was _that_ hunter…I saw him kill a lot of demons, even the ones who were captured…”

Anfisa’s breathing becomes ragged and her expression darkens. Kathalina’s eyes widen, feeling more intensely horrified of Anfisa’s indignation. “Didn’t he see? Or did he?! Did it matter, _at all,_ to him?!”

Her breathing is deeper, but remains ragged.

“Why?! Why did he kill the ones who were imprisoned? They hadn’t seen the outside _for years!_ They’ve been influenced! There were even humans inside! Transformed beyond recognition! How could he?!”

Anfisa bangs her fists on the table, sending several dinnerwares flying off its surface and making Kathalina jump. “I’m…I’m sorry…”

Then, there are tears on her eyes. Anfisa gives in to the anguish and sorrow as her shoulder sags. “…then when the other opened the other container, he _knew_ something was dangerous inside it. But _he still opened it!_ _He_ _still opened it to kill the poor thing inside!”_

The anguished scream that tore from Anfisa’s mouth is long, sorrowful and _furious!_

“Ann!” Kathalina stands up and presses her hands on the girl’s shoulders. She felt compelled to do _something._ If calming her down would do something good, then she’d take it, instead of letting this poor girl shriek in the agony of recalling those...those _horrible_ things. “I—I’m sorry. What you’ve done to save the babies and yourself, they’re all _good_ things! You survived! But _this…”_

Anfisa’s hazel eyes are wide and clouded with pain, her lips shaking at the flood of tears that will come, but she remains quiet.

“Ann, making these Prowlers hurt people _isn’t_ right. You’re doing what _they’re_ doing, what _they’ve done_ to you and to the other poor creatures they’ve captured! I know you want to avenge the ones who were killed, but wouldn’t it be better to give them justice?”

Anfisa’s lips purse, although out of guilt or disagreement, Kathalina couldn’t tell. She continues to reprimand, anyway. “They deserve justice…and _peace_. You need to let the world know about what happened so we can help them and prevent others from suffering, too, not… _this.”_

Anfisa is silent, but her tears are now dry. On her knees, Kathalina—against all survival instincts to run and get away from this dangerous creature—places her palm on the girl’s face. Kathalina can only hope. “Marcelin deserves the truth. The same thing you told me.”

“I know.” Anfisa says, although no known emotion is registered through the words. “He will know. On Valentine’s.”

Kathalina’s face contorts into desperation, her own tears spilling. “Please…Ann… _Anfisa_ …Stop this...”

“You know, I didn’t want to harm Mr. Sparda, but I think he’s been keeping something from you, too.”

Once again, Kathalina’s hand twitches away from her cheek. But Anfisa’s hand shoots up to grab it back and replaces it back to her face. “I won’t kill him. I promise.”

Kathalina didn’t know if what tore out of her mouth was a scream or a squeak, but it could’ve been both. Her whole body shivers as Anfisa’s hold is firm, unmoving, yet she does not hurt her whatsoever.

“Anfisa! Stop!”

Anfisa slowly stands up from the chair, still holding her hand to her cheek. This time, Kathalina was sure about her windows opening by themselves, because they _remained_ open as the winter wind gusts inside her apartment room!

She shivers violently as Anfisa stands tall over her, her long dark hair whipping along with the snowflakes that entered her home.

“Don’t worry.” Her voice remains _too_ gentle for comfort. Then quiet footsteps come closer to the two women. Kathalina can’t see them, but _she knew_ what they are. She can feel their breaths against her face as her eyes and mouth widen in horror. “We’ll still have a Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Kathalina knew their hands would be all over her—

—instead a dazzling blue light interrupts the whole horrifying situation, and—as strange as it is—she felt comforted by the mysterious light!

The heart-shaped balloon floats haltingly towards Kathalina, but a Prowler swipes angrily at it. The claw marks appear against its plastic-red surface, ripping it open and revealing more blue light, more blinding now that it first appeared.

“NO!” Anfisa roared angrily and the Prowlers, invisible at first, reveal themselves with a fury!

To Kathalina, they look to be almost _human_ , except for their retracting, long claws, highly-veined skin and long hair (or fur) that reaches the floor. All four Prowlers are nude and radiated heat from their skin, making them invincible against the winter they had been causing.

A female Prowler emits a high-pitched braying sound—

“ _NYAAAAAAHHHHHG!!!”_

—causing Kathalina to cover her ears—as it locks its fierce eyes on the balloon, floating proudly against the strong wind; it lunges in lightning speed at the unassuming object, aiming her claws at the center of it.

As she spears through, however, another blinding flash of blue emits from its inflated form, but this time, _three swords_ gouge themselves at the balloon’s assailant, _painfully staggering_ the creature back! The three other Prowlers lunge as well, but this time the balloon has anticipated this; it _spins_ on its spot and a _dozen or more of the same bright swords_ appear to surround the balloon!

Still spinning on its spot, the swords successfully _pierce_ its four opponents, impaling them on the apartment floor or against the walls. They writhe in pain and in anger, flailing their limbs and their heads futilely against the solid corners and surfaces they are stuck to!

With Anfisa simply glaring at the balloon, Kathalina is simply _horrified_ at how the impaled Prowlers continue to _writhe_ and _convulse_ against the walls and floor, bleeding profusely and hissing in frustration.

“It’s enchanted!” One of the Prowlers exclaimed, which may mean they’ve figured out why the balloon is sentient and hostile against them. To Kathalina, that’s all the explanation she needs regarding the balloon’s supernatural nature.

As if to answer to that, the balloon spins once and _launches_ one blade towards Anfisa!

Kathalina would’ve still mourned, knowing the girl she had just had garlic soup with would suddenly drop dead from a hurled blade…

But Anfisa continues to shock her when she lifted her other hand to gesture a halting sign, her palm exposed! The blade that was meant to pierce her head stops midair in front of her palm. The blade quivers on its spot, threatening to continue what it intends to do, but unfortunately an invisible force _disintegrates_ the blade until it vanishes into thin air!

Taking this slim opportunity, Kathalina stands up from where she knelt and tried to go to the open window, _anything_ to get away from this!

But Anfisa’s other hand—the one that presses hers to the girl’s cheek—claws desperately for her to reel her back. Kathalina stumbles as she does her best to escape, while all four Prowlers threaten to free themselves from the impaling blades they are pinned by.

The balloon continues to rain upon them blades summoned from thin air, ensuring they’re not released from the floor and the walls. The balloon, however, is unsuccessful in getting its swords to impale Anfisa, as each launching blade stops and quivers in midair, before disappearing in broken, phantom pieces.

“ _No!_ You need to know! You need to come _with me!_ ” Anfisa is shrieking, yet Kathalina wonders why none of the neighbors inside the boarding house have been roused and banging on her door, to try to stop this madness! But did she have to wonder? Kathalina had been trapped ever since she let Anfisa inside—

_Oh God! I spoke about Vergil! I spoke about him to her!_

“Let. Me. GO!” Kathalina knew how futile this is, but her window remains open and the outside remains calm, and quiet—!

Anfisa nimbly wraps her arms around Kathalina’s torso and begins to _carry_ her. Kathalina fights back by kicking backwards, trying to trip the girl from behind. Her free elbows flail back to hit Anfisa’s face while she aggressively wriggles herself free from her grasp. They ended up falling on the floor, with Anfisa desperately pinning her legs down so she wouldn’t escape.

“Vergil _won’t_ save you!” Anfisa’s shrilly and angry voice only infuriates Kathalina’s need to escape, _crawling_ if needed. “You’re coming with me!”

And with all her might, Kathalina lifts the same hand she had placed on Anfisa’s cheek and makes painful contact across her face! The smack was _strong_ enough to make her head going into another direction, as her body reels from being hit.

Standing immediately, Kathalina runs the remaining gap towards her window to escape—

—only for the female Prowler to hurl herself from the wall and bury her underneath its heavy, humanoid body!

Her shoulder _bangs_ against the windowsill, collides _headfirst_ against the wall, before she finally feels her head _violently bouncing_ against the hardwood floor. The explosive pain that erupts from the back of her head is telling of her critical condition. She moans from the pain and from the Prowler finally getting off her, feeling the air coming back into her lungs after the weight had been lifted.

The whole room blurs, rocking back and forth as fresh tears prick at the corner of her eyes. Despite this, she can see the light of the lampposts outside, softly illuminating the quiet February winter, bringing with it soft, floating snowflakes, while her whole apartment begins to darken around her, engulfing her, suffocating her into an unknown oblivion.

 

Vergil has no time to deal with this, so he plans to _impale_ this Prowler long enough to teleport to the Halfield house!

So when the creature _did_ lunge at him, Vergil immediately teleports from his spot; replacing him was a legion more of the summoned swords that _shoot up_ to pierce themselves on the foolish Prowler!

The howl is evident that the swords have impaled the Prowler once again, but it doesn't stop there; just as the Prowler tries to escape the multitude of blades that continue to stab him, dark blue shadows engulf him and the blades, _teleporting them from the spot!_

Twenty feet above the wrecked car, the dark blue, shadowy orb reappears!

It releases the onslaught of blades that continue to _skewer through_ the Prowler’s body, as he falls back to the ground! With a painful crunch, his body is _crucified_ to the ground, pinning him face down, with the legion of blades continuing to _rain down_ upon him to keep him there!

From above, the blue shadows dance and reform, revealing Vergil and his katana, launching himself _down_ to make the final strike!

With Vergil’s ferocious cry, his katana—Yamato—gouge the Prowler’s head, with his blade sinking _two feet deep_ into the ground!

“ _You’re not going anywhere!”_ Vergil rages as the Prowler continues to writhe aggressively against the numerous swords that stills him to the ground. Knowing the creature’s regenerative abilities is as rapid as its behavior for destruction, Vergil huffs an irritated breath and summons a blade, directly pointing it to the creature’s head—

“ _Professor?!”_ Came a very familiar voice.

Vergil’s blood runs cold. He whirls around to come face-to-face with a familiar brunet-haired student, Marcelin Halfield, running towards him!

And he’s not alone. Vergil’s eyes squints at Marcelin’s companion, who innocently sips his iced coffee, watching the commotion with bored disinterest.

There are limitations to how Cloaking works. Humans shouldn’t be underestimated for their vulnerable organic makeup, as their senses are just as sharp and their will to enact whatever they set their mind to should be something to be wary of. With that said, however, with the exception of naturally-born psychics or seers, if a human really _did_ want to look for supernatural—or sometimes, for either entertainment value or out of curiosity, a demonic—activity, they’d have to be prepared and knowledgeable, they’d have _intentions_ for wanting to see these beings, unless the beings aren’t Cloaking themselves. Otherwise, a hapless human who isn’t really looking into whatever this is, a human shouldn’t be seeing Vergil _gutting_ a creature with his blades, whilst his wrecked Firearrow coupe sits in the middle of the road.

Vergil had almost exclaimed how _he_ could see this, but stops and concentrates on impaling the Prowler’s shoulder instead with another summoned blade. The visceral sound of a blade puncturing flesh bristle Marcelin, but that doesn’t deter him from approaching.

“Not any closer!” Vergil warns and Marcelin stops mid-step, his expression fearful. Vergil then turns to his companion. “And you! _Don’t you dare…!”_

“Professor, chill! He’s my neighbor here! Please! Stop doing—whatever this is!”

And something clicks in Vergil’s head. But there’s no time for that now…

Quicker than an eye blinking, Vergil _sprints_ toward his student, wraps his arms around him and they disappear within the swirling fog of blue.

Marcelin’s companion slurps the final contents of his iced coffee as he approaches the Prowler. “Damn…” He mutters nonchalantly and tosses the empty cup somewhere.

The Prowler growled angrily. “Get me outta here and _let’s go!”_

 

They reappear inside the Halfield’s residence, in its house’s small, main hallway. Marcelin stumbles backwards, trying his best to get away from his teacher as much as possible. Vergil, however, stoically stands, blocking the front door with his hand clasped on a _very_ long sheathed sword.

“S-s-stay back!” Marcelin’s panic puts him into the corner of the hallway, one hand outstretched as his only way of defending himself. “My dad’s a hunter! He’ll—He’ll—”

“So am I…secretly, of course.” Vergil announces calmly, like claiming how they need an umbrella on a rainy day. “Your father is, unfortunately, in league with a questionable group of hunters, who are partnered with these Creep of very aggressive Prowlers, led by someone who wants my head on a platter, or so my associates had confirmed they have the ability to do so, _so far_. Prowlers usually keep to themselves and come out on Spring and Summer. This Creep, however, wants to suck every bit of warmth this place has, before moving into major cities to absorb more heat, until winter becomes a permanent fixture. Kind of like the White Witch of Narnia.”

Despite his fear, Marcelin’s eyes blink in confusion, shaking his head at every word Vergil is telling him. His mouth manages to form words, however, at the mention of his father. “My dad…he was speaking to a bunch of people a few weeks ago…I don’t know who they are and I know they aren’t locals, at least here in La Piuma…”

Vergil remains quiet as his jaw tightens, his eyes squinting at Marcelin, then around the whole interior of the house. His gaze remains much more fixed on a wall, to his right. Marcelin is confused, seeing as it looks _ridiculous_ looking at his professor, who’s looking at a wall. But he follows his gaze and realizes that he seems to be looking at another part of the house, its eastern side…

“That’s the kitchen, uh, sir.” Marcelin manages to say despite his quaking, frightened self. He figured his professor may have X-ray vision and is looking _beyond_ the wall. “It’s locked, always. The backdoor, I mean.”

“I hope it _was_ when you snuck out with your girlfriend this morning.” Vergil’s tone is pointedly stern. “Wouldn’t want any _intruders_ inside.”

Marcelin scoffs at being reprimanded, but it had no bite to it as he continues to shake in the corner. “Come on, professor! The only _real trouble_ I’m really in right now, is realizing my _teacher’s a hunter_! And _probably_ not human!”

Vergil remains stoic and calm, but the danger of having this house surrounded in seconds is making him more at edge.

It’s foolish to come here, further putting this boy in danger and himself as bait, yet the urgent need to finally put the nails upon this coffin is important in finding the answers.

 _This person wants me and my brother dead, but they needed time...and resources to do so, and they seem willing to drown this town in winter. They will likely move forward in doing the same to other towns and cities, confirming their very extreme nature. Furthermore, this person was also able to grow these Prowlers in a matter of weeks,_ if they are _the same group of missing younglings from the black market. They managed to befriend my student, as well, effectively getting closer…They know who they’re looking for and knew who to be connected with._

“This new friend of yours,” Vergil suddenly starts, which did make Marcelin jump from his spot. “When did you meet? And where? How intimately did you divulge personal information?”

Marcelin’s eyes squint in confusion, but he searches the ground as if the answers are there. “Uh…My girlfriend introduced him to me, just a few days ago. Says he’s from Fortuna Island, but he just moved here, on the small apartment complex a few blocks from this neighborhood. He and my girlfriend work together in a diner. She’s a waitress.”

Vergil heaves a long sigh of frustration. He has no evidence, only a hypothesis that the Prowlers have befriended his student to get some information about Vergil, or about his brother. Marcelin could already be dating one of the Prowlers, but…

No! If his girlfriend _is_ a Prowler, wouldn’t Vergil have already sensed her true nature?

“Who else is your girlfriend acquainted with? Did she introduce anyone? Does she know about these Prowlers?”

Marcelin shakes his head profusely. “She’s actually very shy. She’d only introduce me to the only one she’s friends with. She also doesn’t have any immediate family…” Then Marcelin becomes quiet, his mouth slacking open. “My dad only met her once. I thought he was overreacting when he met her…dad was so jumpy and nervous around her, but he and Ann had a private talking-through about the two of us hanging out and dating. After that, she insists not bothering to come inside the house again. But she did give me one little gift—”

Vergil’s eyes widen. He crosses the distance between him and his student, and shakes his shoulders. “What sort of gift did she give you? And when and where did you meet her?”

Marcelin’s eyes were already very wide, but it becomes moist in tears. He couldn’t speak, but he keeps shaking his head.

“Marcelin! _Focus!_ ”

It was only after that last word did Marcelin push his teacher away to run upstairs to his room. Following suit, Vergil watches the young man practically force his way inside his own bedroom; panting, Marcelin pulls open his desk’s drawer and rummages inside, until he procures something that makes Vergil’s own blood run cold.

“Here.” Marcelin stretches out his arm to present the object on his hand for Vergil to hold. When he found the will to lift his hand to take the object, Vergil _knew_ he had endangered their lives when he _failed_ the black market mission with Dante and when they stepped foot on that field trip before Christmas vacation.

Vergil’s lips shake before he could mutter the words with fear. “It was my fault...”

Marcelin’s small gasp is immediately replaced with another shake of his head. “No. I met her there. I thought she was a farmer’s daughter, or something. I didn’t know. _You_ didn’t know.”

Vergil’s brows furrow and close his eyes. His students were there, the Biology teacher was there, the bus drivers, botanists, guards…Kathalina was there—

“Kathalina!”

And just like that, Vergil doubles over; an indescribable pain suddenly pierces his heart, _twisting each of the nerves_ that keep it together. His lungs are suddenly filled with _fire,_ making him choke and cough violently!

“Professor!” Marcelin immediately goes to his teacher’s side, trying to support him long enough to walk him to a chair. But Vergil’s weight and size compliments the agony that threatens to make both of them fall.

Still clutching the object, Vergil’s body gives in to the pain and kneels to the floor, coughing _nothing_ but air, his body heaving to defend itself from a pain that’s making Vergil grit his teeth! He pushes his student away from him, fearing he might accidentally hit him, but in the process, the object falls from his hand and it _crashes_ on the floor!

Marcelin stands, silent and shocked as he watches in fear and despair at his university teacher, on all fours on his bedroom, his throat and body hacking and convulsing at this mysterious pain he suddenly has!

He can see that Vergil’s skin has turned a bluer, paler complexion, especially when he turns up to look at his student. His face has turned shades of blue and purple, translucent to reveal sickly veins; his eyes water and _swell_ , and when he opens his mouth, his voice is hoarse and dry.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…Kathalina—!” Vergil, despite clutching his neck and coughing profusely, manages to lift his hand and touch _something_ in thin air!

“What about her, teach? What happened to Ms. Lombardo?” Marcelin kneels next to his teacher, his eyes focused, trying to glean any useful information from this sudden delirium his professor is having.

“…forgive me…the balloon…”

Marcelin can only shake his head at the confoundedness of what he just said. But his gaze travels lower and unto the floor, where the smashed object is.

Anfisa had given him an adorable little Mitis Bloom; native in humid to continental climates and can be found in Fortuna’s forest, it is one of the hardiest plants that can withstand winter. Coming mostly in vibrant reds and deeper shades of violet, it had grown considerably since December, but still compact enough to be brought with just one hand. Marcelin had made sure to water it once a week; it was out of its drawer before Marcelin leaves to school, to get its needed sunlight, and back inside it when he returns, to ensure it doesn’t get frozen during its off-season.

A question now floats around Marcelin’s mind: _Was it cursed?_

Marcelin holds his teacher’s shoulders and does his best to pull him up. “C’mon, sir. You can use the bed— _Aaarrgh!_ ”

Looking up to see the window of his bedroom was a _big mistake._ But how did he not even _see_ the moving shadows of _five Prowlers_ leering at them from the outside, their teeth wide and sharp, their eyes glowing, their breaths puffing against the window glass and their nude, strong bodies mocking them?

Perhaps because he was too worried for his professor, who is still coughing and unable to stand on his own.

Marcelin could only drag his professor low into the floor, but that wouldn’t really stop the Prowlers from breaking into the room. Marcelin’s breath hitches as he recognizes his coffee-drinking companion from earlier, pressed against the glass and huffing puffs of breath, his eyes like a predator impatiently peering into its prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a tumblr: bees-and-greg-9229.tumblr.com/
> 
> Apologies for the cliffhanger! This chapter has gone on long enough, so I needed to cut it.
> 
> If anybody feels that Vergil is out of character, lemme know so I can improve!
> 
> I truly commend Classic Vergil fan-fic writers, of every genre you put him into. He's such a stern character that didn't get enough game story, but hey, that's what fanfiction is for, right?
> 
> Also, I apologize for the whole world-building thing with Fortuna and Enamel City, etc., and regarding how their secret demon-hunting business even works. It isn't the main focal point, but I've spent a lot of time on it because I feel that demon-hunting in Dante's world/DMC in general appears to be a very unappealing job that seems to connote taboos or something, so I wanted to flesh out the twins' emotions about demon hunting.
> 
> And if anyone feels like negatively saying about the poorly written detective-thriller-vibe from both Vergil and Dante, yes, I abhor myself for even trying. I'll be ranting about that in my heart's content on my blog, where I do want to critique myself. Also, will probs post some sources about how to write thrillers (oh boy, it's a doozy!)
> 
> Lastly, if there is anything I don't have any regrets writing, it's Dante \\\^O^\\\\! Whereas Vergil was difficult, Dante flowed easier. Having four installments about him/half being his story is definitely very easy for Dante fanfic writers.


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